Page 46 of Racing Heat
Neither one of us looks at the other while we talk, both staring out at the field like that will help not draw attention to our conversation. It’s not that he shouldn’t be talking to me before a game; it’s just that Jase has no real reason to. He should be over with Hendrix and the other goalies, readying them for the game, but instead he’s here with me.
“Hendrix ready?”
“Of course. That girl was born ready. And I think if I send her through one more drill or combination, she’s going to kick my ass herself.”
“That’s my girl. Always ready for something.”
He laughs. “She sure is something.”
“Giving you a run for your money, huh?”
“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
That statement causes my head to spin in his direction.
“You’re beautiful, Cassie. Absolutely fucking beautiful.”
My voice gets caught in my throat. No one has ever seen me standing here game day ready, hair in a braid, dressed in my soccer uniform and cleats, and called me beautiful before.
“What’s that look for?” Jase moves and stands in front of me, blocking my view of the field.
“No one has ever called me beautiful before,” I admit to him with a shrug.
“Boys, Cassie. You’ve been dealing with boys. This is what it’s like dealing with someone who is a whole kid-who-can-drive older than you.”
I smile at him. “I guess so.”
“Just make sure it’s a dancing night and not a bar night. I want to celebrate with you.” He turns on his heel and walks away from me.
I watch his retreating form, wondering if he’s going to look back at me. But he doesn’t. And that’s the only conversation we have until after the game.
I’m standing in my spot waiting for the whistle to blow for the second half of our game. The Blaze are up two-nothing. The goals both belong to Mac. She’s on fire tonight. I’m so proud of her. The assist of one of our goals belongs to me, and the other to the center mid, DJ.
The Blaze are looking good tonight. Coach Watts has been sitting for most of the game. The more we play together, the less he stands and directs. It makes me nervous sometimes when he sits and isn’t showing any emotion. Makes me wonder what he’s thinking about the game. Those thoughts go away, though, as the whistle blows and we’re off and running for the second half.
It’s a tough second half. I end up running box to box trying to keep the ball out of our defense. Hendrix is on fire making save after save. But then she comes out a bit too far and a ball flies into the net.
“Fuck!” she screams.
Amelia goes running over to try to calm her down. The refs can’t hear her swearing like that.
Jase is up on his feet and yelling directions to Hendrix. “We gotta get back. You can’t come out like that and expect the angle to be cut, Hen. Come on, now, let’s freaking go.”
“Easy, we’ve got this,” I call to Jase.
His head snaps in my direction. I don’t normally address him during the games, but yelling at Hendrix right now isn’t going to help things. But it doesn’t stop his emotional response, which is usually kept in check. Except when it’s not.
The Blaze sets back up, and the Kansas City Current have us on the run. They are definitely more of a second-half team, and they are definitely putting the pressure on us. But we can win this; I know we can. I sprint so hard that my lungs are burning. I call for the ball from Amelia and she sends it up to me. It lands in perfect placement. I fire off without a second thought. The shot comes from the eighteen, which is far, but I’ve made them before.
This one goes in.
The crowd erupts cheers.
“Yes, girl!” Mac screams as she comes over and hugs me. The rest of the girls engulf me, and we celebrate our now two-goal lead over the Current.
That goal is enough to keep us in the lead, and we close out the game with a win.
Walking through the lines, we say “Good game” to everyone who passes.
